


The Parents

by ithinkimawriter (Serial_Writer)



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, F/M, Hand Jobs, Mild Smut, Public Hand Jobs, Romance, Self-Insert, no beta we die like randall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serial_Writer/pseuds/ithinkimawriter
Summary: Reader turns a boring family dinner into some hands on fun, pun intended.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck & Reader, Arthur Fleck & You, Arthur Fleck/You
Kudos: 7





	The Parents

Pissed did not begin to describe how you were feeling. You could think of a million other places you would rather be, and none of them included at dinner with your parents. 

They weren’t necessarily bad people, you were just not the daughter they thought they deserved. Funny enough, _not like you were jealous or anything_ , they adored Arthur, the reason you were stuck in your current situation.

He had jumped at the suggestion to meet up for dinner and catch up while they were in town. He hadn’t necessarily begged, he’d only given you those puppy-dog eyes he knew you could _never_ resist. You loved that they loved him, he truly did deserve it, you just wished they would stop comparing you to your older sister. Your mother had at one point gone as far as saying that Arthur and your sister would have been the better couple. 

You knew his experience with parental figures was a bad one, and you were glad he had found a good one with your parents, but you were only human. There was nothing you wanted more than for them to bestow a bit of that love they seemed to have for everyone, upon you. 

It had been forty-five minutes of you listening to all of your sister’s new projects, her husband, her kids and her wonderful cookie-cutter life. This, of course, led into the fact that you hadn’t finished school yet and _‘oh, Y/N honey. You’re not getting any younger.’_

Arthur’s hand had grasped yours from under the table and while you knew he was simply trying to reassure you and be there for you, you still pulled out of his hold and very pointedly placed your hands on the table, away from his reach.  
You felt his eyes on you and you could already imagine the hurt look on his face which in turn squeezed at your heart until you relented and patted his knee reassuringly. You couldn’t really get mad at him for how shitty your parents were. He might have been the reason why you were currently enduring them, but they had always been like this and that was through no fault of his own. 

The conversation droned on and only the sound of Arthur’s genuine laughter could pry a smile from you. You twirled your fork around your plate, moving the food from one side and then the other, but not really eating. God knew if you did, you’d be regaled with a story about whatever new diet your sister was trying. Still, your mother couldn’t help herself from scolding you with a _‘don’t play with your food, Y/N’_ through her teeth. Because a lady never raises her voice in public, _of course_.

You scowled and set your fork down, briefly shutting your eyes and trying to bring to the front of your mind anything remotely more enjoyable than your current situation. This in turn led to your beautiful boyfriend next to you. You tilted your chin toward your chest and took a good look at him. You felt your lips soften up into a smile as you took in the rebellious soft curls that had broken free from the product that was slicking them back and instead caressed the side of his face, just tempting you to run your fingers through them. Arthur loved dressing up, and this occasion was no exception. He had kept it casual; a dark blue dress shirt that brought out his eyes, with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip as you traced his veins with your eyes. God, he _knew_ you had a thing for his arms and hands and as you wondered if he had done it on purpose as to alleviate the stress of the night, you felt yourself clench around nothing. 

Taking in a deep breath through your nose, your eyes moved down to his neatly pressed slacks, taking care to check out his crotch. A low groan built in in the back of your throat as you thought about how unfair it was for you to be so turned on and not be able to do anything about it. 

Discretely, you began moving your chair closer to Arthur’s, taking extra care to make sure the legs wouldn’t scrape the floor and draw attention to you and your antics.

Arthur paused briefly in the middle of his story to look at you, a bright smile on his face as he leaned over to press his lips to your temple before he resumed his tale. The gesture almost made you feel guilty about what you were about to do to him but, if you didn’t distract yourself, you would set fire to the place, you were _sure_ of it. 

Once the distance between the two of you was such that nobody around you would suspect what was going on under the table, you innocently placed your hand high up on his thigh. You hadn’t done anything yet, but a smirk still made its way to your lips as you heard the stutter in his voice. Arthur briefly turned to look at you but your eyes remained glued to your father who had taken over the conversation. You ghosted your fingers further up until you reached his zipper, holding it between the pads of you thumb and index finger, a grin on your lips as he cleared his throat in an attempt to catch your attention.

“Oh, you’re not coming down with something are you Arthur, dear?”

Once his attention was away from you, you carefully unzipped his slacks and traced his semi-hard length with your nail. Arthur cursed under his breath and you had to mask your giggle with a cough, earning yourself a glare from your mother. 

Arthur tried to power through the conversation, and as you pulled him out of his briefs, you were oddly proud of his discipline. Still, you wanted to see how far he could go. 

You ran your thumb over his slit, your thighs clenching together as you spread his precum around the head. Arthur’s right leg began bouncing, much like it did whenever he was in an uncomfortable situation. You stopped your movements and turned your face away from your parents as you leaned into his ear. “I can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

He didn’t answer and you nodded with a smile, making a move to give him a bit of space. At the last second, Arthur wrapped his hand around your wrist and brought you back to your previous position, all while giving your parents his full attention.

As your curled fingers lazily flicked up and down his length, you focused all of your attention on him, his stoic profile much more captivating than your parents could ever be. You weren’t too sure if he was paying attention to whatever your parents were saying but, he kept them content as he supplied hums and nods in all of the right places.

You tightened your fist around him, the feeling of him heavy and hot in your palm driving you insane and there was truly nothing you wanted more than to drag him to the nearest bathroom and get him to have his way with you. 

Your eyes roamed over his face, taking in his sharp cheekbones and how his crow’s feet seemed deeper as he struggled to hold his composure. You needed him to let go and upped your efforts, you picked up speed, your thumb rubbing around the sensitive tip during every pass and you felt him shudder under your touch. 

As to take the attention away from him, you decided to offer something to the conversation, knowing damn well your parents couldn’t care less but needing to give Arthur the space necessary.

You offered trivial facts about your classes all the while Arthur’s fist clenched and unclenched atop the table as your slick hand squeezed and pumped him, taking no mind that you were ridiculously close to cramping up. 

Finally, after a sharp flick of your wrist, Arthur came into your closed fist with a muffled groan. You brought him down from his high with lazy flicks of your wrist, your other hand rubbing soothing circles on his thigh. 

With a giggle, you wiped your hand on the cloth napkin laid out on his lap before neatly tucking him back in his pants. You zipped him up and then patted his crotch, a grin on your lips as he discretely smiled back at you. 

Dinner with your parents was suddenly not as bad anymore, and you would definitely not be opposed to these get-together in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Work transferred from old tumblr account, ithinkimawriter. Kudos and comments always welcome.


End file.
